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Description
The picture I did for Numbat's intro to P.V.P, and a tiny little short story to go along with it:

Mud. Dirt. Bugs. Trees. These were a few things that Numbat found he enjoyed, and so it wasn't very often that he found himself roaming the city. He went there for things like food and clothing, sure, and maybe to occasionally steal the money off of some poor victim - but he never stuck around the city for too long. So when he found a red circle - sporting a jagged toothed shark in the middle - spray painted onto a wall, he found himself interested. Numbat was quick and just a little sneaky. His ears were always tuned in to the conversations around him, even when it didn't seem like he was listening to them.

"The Predators", he heard the name mentioned a few times before. A gang at war with the government, and with another gang called the Prey. There were snippets here and there that he recollected as he stood there and stared at the wall. The paint looked almost fresh and he reached up to touch it. His gloved fingers came away dry and he stared at his hand, thinking. Well, he knew he had no problem riling people up and stealing from others. It was something he did on a near regular basis when he found the time to do so. This Predators gang sounded something he would use the word “homey” for, and making it a part of his life was something he was going to do.

Description
The picture I did for Numbat's intro to P.V.P, and a tiny little short story to go along with it:

Mud. Dirt. Bugs. Trees. These were a few things that Numbat found he enjoyed, and so it wasn't very often that he found himself roaming the city. He went there for things like food and clothing, sure, and maybe to occasionally steal the money off of some poor victim - but he never stuck around the city for too long. So when he found a red circle - sporting a jagged toothed shark in the middle - spray painted onto a wall, he found himself interested. Numbat was quick and just a little sneaky. His ears were always tuned in to the conversations around him, even when it didn't seem like he was listening to them.

"The Predators", he heard the name mentioned a few times before. A gang at war with the government, and with another gang called the Prey. There were snippets here and there that he recollected as he stood there and stared at the wall. The paint looked almost fresh and he reached up to touch it. His gloved fingers came away dry and he stared at his hand, thinking. Well, he knew he had no problem riling people up and stealing from others. It was something he did on a near regular basis when he found the time to do so. This Predators gang sounded something he would use the word “homey” for, and making it a part of his life was something he was going to do.